


Surprise! An Ethical Dilemma

by owlbsurfinbird



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Birthday Party, Ethics, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 04:15:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5652082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlbsurfinbird/pseuds/owlbsurfinbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What's the best way to tell a lie?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surprise! An Ethical Dilemma

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BlueIris4](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueIris4/gifts).



> Happy Belated Birthday, BlueIris4
> 
> Thank you so much to Wendymr, for the very speedy beta and encouragement!
> 
> (BlueIris4 and I exchanged some email about the ethics of white lies, and one of the scenarios was the one in this story.)

It started with a lie. Wasn't much of one, really, but Robbie felt uncomfortable nonetheless. Always bothered him, not telling the absolute truth. He'd shocked Morse a time or two, by being honest, though gentle, to grieving relatives. Red-rimmed eyes would pin him to the wall asking if their husband or daughter had suffered and he'd tell it true: "Yes, ma'am, I'm so sorry. We believe that to be the case."

"Wouldn't it be kinder, Lewis, to lie?" Morse had asked. "We don't know what a victim was experiencing at the moment of death."

"I'd like to, sir, but we have a legal responsibility to speak the truth when asked for an answer," Lewis had said, more than once.

And Morse would frown, and his eyes would pinch in thoughtful irritation. "Truth is sometimes a luxury."

"Not to me. Never to me."

So when Robbie was lied to—and he had been lied to, time and again, by the man _he_ was about to lie to—he'd told James Hathaway that there would never again be lies between them. Complete honesty, he'd said, or we call it a day.

And James, for his part, had tried very hard to be honest in his own way. He'd dodge questions, or obfuscate, as he put it, when caught out. He'd mastered the art of answering a question with a question. Why do you ask? Can we discuss this later? What do you hope to learn if I answer that? _Bloody Jesuit training, most likely._ Though Robbie didn't know. The question of religious instruction had been answered: "How do you imagine that whatever training I had in the seminary has any bearing on my work as an inspector?"

Robbie'd come in that morning knowing it was James's birthday. Knowing full well that a surprise party at work was planned and that he and Laura would be kidnapping the man after work for dinner. Every year James demurred at any thought of celebration; there would be the back and forth of convincing him that yes, he was important, and yes, they were celebrating his ruddy birthday whether he liked it or not. But this year was different. They'd all pretended to ignore it. All day long, as if it were forgotten, or simply unworthy of recognition.

It was driving Robbie mad lying to his friend by omission. It had been a light duty day, too, so he'd watched as James drew further and further into himself, as if he couldn't let anyone see that he was hurt and maybe even feeling embarrassed for feeling hurt in the first place.

And Robbie wasn't looking forward to lying to the man just to convince him to go to the canteen in the next few minutes either. Getting Hathaway to do anything he didn't want to do had become problematic ever since he'd become a DI. Seems a rigid backbone and a prickly demeanor came with the new warrant card.

Robbie gave Lizzie a tight smile as he passed her in the hall. "Are you lot ready?"

She grinned. "Yeah, got a few balloons and streamers. Everyone's in there. Cake's a big draw. People love a surprise party. Got him another succulent to go with his cactus."

His eyebrows rose. "He'll love that." 'Course he wouldn't. It was a miracle that the damn plant had survived this long. Wouldn't have, if Robbie hadn't been looking in on it now and again. "I'll go and get him."

The man of the hour was sitting hunched over his keyboard, frowning at the screen in front of him when Robbie entered the office. "Lizzie is AWOL," James said without looking up. "Have you seen her?"

 _She's been stringing up streamers and balloons._ "What's that you're working on?"

James turned to look up at him, eyes narrowed slightly. He leaned back in his chair, fiddling with a pen. "Why do you want to know? It's never a good sign when you start answering a question with a question, Robert."

"It's not, is it?"

The corner of James's mouth curled up. "Why have you adopted this curious method of communication?"

Robbie settled on the edge of Lizzie's desk. "Does it bother you?" He watched as James battled the urge to smile and lost.

"Should it?" James leaned forward suddenly, his chair giving a squeak, re-focusing on his screen, but still smiling, as if to himself.

"Care to come with me for a coffee?" Lewis glanced at his watch. Couldn't keep people away from their desks much longer, and as much as he enjoyed playing this game, it wasn't helping him get the man out the door. How was he to tell him?

"Why the sudden interest in coffee?" James's voice was distracted, his attention riveted to the screen.

"James?"

"Hmm?"

Robbie watched Lizzie duck her head into the main office area on the other side of the widow. She widened her eyes, making an exaggerated face at him and he shrugged eloquently, hoping that James hadn't seen the gesture. "Could it be that you forgot that you sent Lizzie on an errand?"

"Nope." He met Robbie's eyes. "What's going on?"

"Do you like surprises?"

James, still staring at the screen, huffed a laugh. "Why?"

And Robbie couldn't keep it up. Couldn't lie to the man, either. He had vowed, ever since that day, years ago, that there'd be truth between them, always. "How would you feel if the whole bloody nick was waiting for you down the hall just to have a bit of cake for your birthday?"

"Are they really?" James turned to Robbie, delight plain on his face.

"How long are you going to keep this up? Bloody hell, man, I can't lie to you about it, no matter how kindly meant. Slippery slope, isn't that what they say?" Lewis watched Hathaway stand up. "Did you know all along?"

Hathaway turned at the door, his hand over his heart and a supercilious smile on his face. He pulled back and cocked his head, his eyes dancing. "Would it matter if I did?"

**Author's Note:**

> Quick note: I lost all of my written work not archived to AO3 yesterday because an external drive and my laptop both died during a file transfer. Betas and people in the Lewis comm have been very kind and supportive in forwarding whatever they had of my works in progress (and of work taken down from AO3)--thank you so much! While I can replace the equipment, I can't replace my works in progress or my NaNoWriMo Project. So if you write--papers, fics, PhDs, anything at all--make a backup NOW to several places so that you do not have a single point of failure. And print hard copies of your work as well. I'm sadder but wiser and thought I'd remind people to take care of their data. :-/


End file.
